Tommy
I've only had my heart broken once. It was two years ago and I had been dating Katherine Hillard for over three years. I thought she was the one for me. The one that I was finally going to settle down with, but then she broke my heart. She traded the life that we were building for an intern at her father's company.
I met Katherine at a banquet set up to protect the wildlife in New York, something that I've always been passionate about. Knowing that species were being extinct and pushed out of their homes in order for us to build new structures and support an overgrowing population makes me sick. I want to conserve. I want to provide the means for these small and defenseless creatures to live in their most natural habitat.
Katherine was there as a house speaker for Hillard Industries, a pharmaceutical corporation that provides medication to those in need. Their involvement was one of the biggest reasons why the banquet had received any press. I saw Katherine there and I was instantly smitten by her. The long legs, the blonde hair, the Australian accent that had me following her around like a puppy dog.
I should have known that her beauty was a mask that she chose to hide behind. I wish I would have warned myself about her. I wish that I hadn't met her and fallen prey to her lies.
Katherine: Call me, T. We need to talk.
And I really wish she would just leave me the hell alone.
I've heard all there is for her to say. I mean, how many times can she say she's sorry? The words mean nothing to me coming from her.
Me: Can't right now.
But for the life of me, I can't seem to get away from her.
We're done. I have detached myself from any feelings for her, but I can't just leave it alone. She was once everything to me.
With a sigh, I shut my phone off and put it back in my pocket. Right now isn't the time to think about this and her.
Being back in New York always makes me a little anxious. It was where Katherine and I lived for the course of our relationship. Going to New York used to feel like going home but now it seems like a prison.
I push myself deeper in my seat, resting my head on the headrest behind me. It's that time of the year again. Another meeting. Another flight. Another seminar that no one cares about. This would be my sixth conference in five days. I had jumped from Portland to Las Vegas, then Phoenix, San Diego, and Los Angeles. New York would be my final stop, and unlike the other events, this is so much bigger. I'll spend two days as the guest speaker and finish off this hell week.
"This way," the flight attendant says to an elderly man dressed in a suit.
She's escorting him to his seat in business class and she has the widest smile I have ever seen in my life.
I didn't particularly enjoy flying. It's not so much about being in the air, but about losing the control and putting my life in someone else's hands. That's why I always choose the aisle seat. I can get up and out at any moment's notice. I'm not confined or trapped behind someone with no way out. You won't catch me in the passenger's seat of anyone's car. I drive or I'll meet you there. There's no one I trust more than myself. Some may say that that's self-centered, but it's the truth. It's what I've come to learn.
Your life is not more precious to anyone but yourself. Day in and day out I have to live with the fact that someone trusts me enough to put their lives in my hands. I value all their lives like they're my own. That's why I make the best neurologist. I look behind the body and take into account the person that they are. We're taught to detach ourselves from the situation, to focus on the disease and prognosis, but I can't.
I pull my MacBook out quickly and go over some of the power points that I'm going to be presenting. It's all recycled material from the year before. I type up a few more notes and then shut it off as the plane begins to get more crowded.
After this last seminar, I'm taking a much needed vacation. The Maldives, Hawaii, the Bahamas… just somewhere different. Somewhere that I'm not obligated to wear a suit and tie.
Speaking of… I pull at my tie, loosening the damn knot around my neck that is threatening to strangle me. I can't do another week of this. I have to stand my ground next year.
"Right this way, ma'am," The flight attendant says, again, but this time to a shorter woman that looked more lost than anything.
The flight attendant directed her to the seat beside me, the window seat, and I unconsciously rolled my eyes. I thought the hospital had purchased the seat beside me too. Figures they would do this shit. They did the same thing for my flight from Portland to Las Vegas. I had to spend the entire flight listening to a man snoring in my ear.
At least she's better looking than my last seat companion.
"Thank you," she smiled at the flight attendant, revealing a set of perfectly straight and white teeth.
Wow, she has a nice smile… and freckles on her nose too.
"You can just place your carry-on items in the overhead compartment," The flight attendant instructed, the plastered smile never leaving her face.
I just know she has to be in some kind of pain.
"Got it," she nodded, "Thank you so much."
The small woman swung her bag in front of her and attempted to place it in the bin above. When she reached up, the hem of her shirt lifted, revealing a sliver of her skin. I'm a guy. I can't not look. And the more I saw, the more I liked her.
She's pretty. Not really the type of girl I'd go after but maybe different would be good.
"Need some help?" I say, looking up at her.
She gives me the same smile she had given the flight attendant earlier.
"Please?" She giggles, "I promise I'm not usually this helpless."
I stand up and push her items up above and close the bin.
I puff out my chest a little bit, feeling like the man that came in to save the day. I'm not usually this obnoxious.
"It's no problem," I fix the button on my suit and I extend a hand out for her to take the window seat.
I sit back down into my seat and watch as she clasps her hands over her legs. She shifts back and forth from looking out the window and sitting back in her chair.
I've never seen someone fidget so much in their seat. Is something wrong with this chick?
"You okay over there?" I ask.
Her head lifts as if I've just startled her. "Huh?" And then she smiles again, her nose scrunching, "oh, yeah, sorry. I've just… I don't really fly. I guess you can say I'm a little nervous."
"Don't be," I assured her. "I do it all the time."
"You like flying?"
"Umm," I rub my chin, "I'd say that I'm more bored of it than anything. I've been doing nothing but flying this entire week."
It was the truth. I did it at least twice a month. I was typically needed out of state to consult on cases or speak in conferences. But this was workshop week. It happened every year. I've been participating in it for over six years. I'm tired of it now.
The sound of the intercom broke my thoughts. "Good evening, ladies and gentleman. Welcome aboard flight 375, non-stop from Los Angeles to New York City. We will be landing in approximately five hours. Please be sure to stow carry-on luggage in the overhead compartments and fasten your seat belts. We will be coming along in a moment to offer refreshments and in-flight meals. Thank you for flying with United Airlines."
Take off went without a hitch. We were in the air in no time. I keep to myself for the first couple of hours, I'm usually typing away at my laptop when something comes to mind, but I've mostly been enjoying the in-flight movie. I say mostly because I couldn't help notice how tightly freckles was holding onto the armrest and it was becoming increasingly distracting. She was taking my side.
I saw the flight attendant making her rounds and I flagged her down.
"Miss," I raised my hand.
She came over to me and I finally caught her name tag, Brenda.
"Hello, sir. Can I help you with something?" Brenda gave me that same smile she had done earlier.
"Yes, actually. May I please have two glasses of wine."
"Of course," she nods and pours the liquid in two glasses. She offers both of them to me and I put one on my table and I pass the other one to my seat companion. Brenda continues going down the aisle, passing refreshments to the other fliers.
"Ummm…" Freckles stares at the glass in her hand. "I'm not a big drinker."
I guess I should have asked her before ordering, but this girl desperately needs something to calm down.
"It helps calm your nerves. Trust me."
She continues to stare at me and her brows begin to furrow. The more I see her, the more beautiful she becomes, and that's saying a lot because I don't think she's wearing an ounce of makeup. Her brown eyes had flecks of gold in them that shimmered when she blinked. She had just about the most perfect nose. It was perfectly turned up and straight. And I can't forget about those lips. Beautifully pink and plump.
"I don't mean to be rude, but how can I trust you when I don't even know you?"
Freckles has a fire. I like it.
"You're right," I smirk. "I'm sorry. How forward of me. I'm Tommy."
I see what may be a crack in her armor. Just the faintest of smiles. I clink my drink to hers and down it all in one gulp.
She says nothing as she watches me drink it all and I don't know why but this girl has me questioning everything I thought I knew about women.
It didn't take much for me to have them coming back into my room. It usually took a smile. If I bought them a drink, they were dragging me into the nearest bathroom for a quicky.
I haven't lived the life of a saint since Katherine and I broke up. They say work hard, play hard, and I've never agreed more with a motto. I do play hard. When I'm not working, I'm out hitting the clubs with my best friend. I'm not that old, but I feel like I missed out on my youth because I was so focused on my academics. Once I finally earned my M.D., I had women hanging off each arm.
This woman doesn't seem to want anything to do with me.
"Do you have a name?" I ask her.
She nods once, "Kimberly."
I love it but I kind of like freckles better.
"Well, Kimberly. Why don't you drink?"
"It's not that I don't drink. It's just that I haven't really had a drink in a while."
"And why is that?" I ask.
"Because…" she stops as if she's searching for the right word, "life."
"I get that." When I was first in medical school, I never once thought about touching alcohol. I didn't want that to be the reason that I didn't do as well on an exam. I wanted my brain as focused as it could possibly be. "But flights are like time-outs on life. We have nothing to do for five whole hours. And it'd be awful if you spent the entire time gripping my side of the armrest."
"Oh," she frowns, "I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was doing it."
This was her second time apologizing. Did she do that a lot?
"Don't be sorry," I told her. "Just drink."
The next thing I know, she's chugging the wine like an eighteen-year-old at his first frat party. Haven't had a drink in a while? Please. I know a drinker when I see one.
It was her first lie to me. I wonder what else she's hiding.
Freckles just became my new form of entertainment.
"What brings you to New York?"
"Work," she pauses for a moment and then continues, "Actually, I just needed some time away from my family."
Family, eh? I steal a quick glance at her finger and see no ring. She looks about my age. Maybe she has kids, but it's not completely unheard of to not have any at this age. The thought of kids isn't even in my frame of mind.
"Siblings driving you crazy?"
"Only child."
My brows lift, "Overbearing parents?"
She shakes her head, "Not really."
"Ex-husband?"
"He's not in the picture anymore."
So there was someone. Who would be crazy enough to divorce someone as gorgeous as her?
"Kids?"
She tilts her chin, "Was it that obvious?"
We laugh together and I feel this sudden shift between us. I can't help but trail down her body with my eyes and assess her. I'm the biggest asshole, I know, but it's who I am. It's who I've always been. And damn, if she isn't the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
"So you have a child?"
"Three," she tells me and I'm genuinely surprised.
Three? And she has a body like that? Her husband was either an idiot or she is a psychopath in disguise.
I'm not sure if I should be as turned on as I am right now.
"Three kids and no husband? His loss, right?" I shoot her a wink and she adjusts herself in her seat.
"He was a man-child and couldn't handle the responsibility that came with being a father. We're better off."
"I bet you are." I smile. "So what kind of work are you in?"
She shakes her head, "Are you always this friendly with everyone that sits next to you?"
"Only the cute ones," I wink.
"And I'm guessing speaking to them like you're speaking to me usually works."
I think about it for a moment, "Works one-hundred percent of the time."
She lets out a puff of air, "Well then my rejection must be a huge blow to your ego. I think it's time to update your statistics."
I laugh again. Oh, I like her. The more I talk to her the more I picture myself dragging her back to my hotel room. Freckles is feisty. I wanted to know more.
"You're right. It is a huge blow. Why don't you make it up to me by getting me a drink?"
The corner of her lip curves up and she throws me a playful glare, "I don't think so."
"I buy you a drink, you buy me one. It's only fair."
"Ah, but I didn't ask you to buy me a drink, remember? That was all you."
We hit a bump of turbulence and her lively personality erases. Her hands grip back at the armrest, the tension that had subsided within her returning.
She needed a chill pill, seriously.
"Hey," I start, gently, "it's just turbulence. We'll pass it soon."
"Yeah," she nods and I know she's putting on a brave face.
"How about another drink?" I don't think she'll take me up on my offer, but if there's something I know about flying commercial, it's that a drink will drown your worries away. Sometimes it's ten minutes, other times it's for the whole flight. Either way, it helps and freckles needs it bad.
"Okay," she says after a moment. "I think I really do need it."
I flag the flight attendant down once more and order another round of drinks.
"Cheers," I clink my glass to Kimberly's once again, but rather than just stare at me like she did the last time, she takes a sip of the wine.
"Thank you," she releases a sigh once the drink goes down her throat.
"One more of these and you're going to have to take me out to dinner," I smirk.
"What do you mean?"
I look at her, "The golden rule?"
"I'm sorry," she laughs, "I've been out of the game so long that I have no idea what you're talking about."
I rub my hands together "Ah, I see. Well, the first drink is the ice breaker— the introductory period, so to speak. The guy usually sees a pretty girl from across the bar and orders her a drink to get her attention."
"Okay…" she answers as if she was following where I was going.
"Then the girl will offer something in return. It can be a drink, an appetizer… a phone number. That's the second move."
"And the third?" She asks.
"Game on," I grin, "Dinner, movie… sex. Whatever your heart desires."
"I see," she drinks from her glass, "but there's something you got wrong in your logic."
"And that is?"
She leans over towards me and I can smell the skin on her neck. It's fruity with a hint of fresh flowers. Jesus!
Her lips get beside my ear and she whispers, "I didn't buy you a drink."
I swallow as I feel the heat from her breath travel down the collar of my shirt. She is… wow.
Another bump of turbulence startles her and it reminds her to take another sip of her drink. We leave the previous conversation there, although I'm dying to continue playing this game.
A bump and then another sip. I feel bad but I can't contain my laugh.
"Sorry," she says, placing a hand over her lips, "It's just been so long since I've been on a plane, and all I'm thinking about are my kids and if they're behaving. Then work. I just have a lot on my mind."
"I can drink to that," I say and take another sip of my drink. "You sound like you have a lot going on. Are you from LA?"
"Nope," she shakes her head, "We're not talking specifics."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know you, Tommy. You seem nice but I have kids that I need to protect."
I chuckle because she can't be serious. She thinks I'm crazy? "I'm not going to stalk you or anything."
"That's exactly what a stalker would say," she smiles.
This girl. I rub at my grin.
"I suppose that's true. So no specifics? You don't want me to know more about you?"
"Why would I?"
"To get to know you? Don't you want to get to know me?"
She shakes her head, "I think I know everything there is to know about you."
"Oh, really?" My brown eyes meet hers. "And what have you concluded?"
She bites on her plump lower lip, "I think you're used to always getting what you want. You don't date because it's easier for you, whether that be because of your line of work or because you're just emotionally unavailable." She pauses and narrows her eyes at me, like she's really studying me. "I think you've been hurt in the past. So you flirt with just about anyone and I don't think you care about knowing anything about them because sex is easier than building a relationship. You're like a kid playing darts, throwing all that you have and hoping one of them lands on bullseye. And although you think otherwise, your charm doesn't work on everyone."
I bite at the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. Well, I'll be damned. I got a little psychic over here… or am I really that obvious?
She is something else.
"Are you a mind reader or something?"
"Nope," she shrugged. "You're just not that deep."
"Yet," I mumbled to myself, but by the pink tint to her cheeks, I know she heard me.
"Thank you for the drink, but I think I'll be turning in for the remainder of the flight."
That's it? She's not going to continue to play along? Is it really possible to resist my charm? I mean, it's me.
"Alright," I put my hands out defensively, "I know when it's time to give up. I won't bother you again."
She shifted away from me and closes her eyes, but I know she didn't really go to sleep because any little bump, she gripped onto the armrest. She could fight it all she wanted. It just made me want her all that much more.
We landed in record time. I hadn't realized how fast the flight went by because I was busy thinking of what else to say so that she could talk to me.
I wasn't the type of person to chase after a girl, they usually chased me, but this girl— this woman, she's different. She wanted nothing to do with me, so naturally, she was all I could think about.
When it was time to disembark, I stood from my seat and grabbed my items from the overhead compartment. I saw Kimberly's bag that I had placed up there earlier and grabbed it for her as well. Since she didn't have much luck putting it up there, I didn't think she would have better luck getting it down.
I noted the tag on her bag, stating: Kimberly Hart.
So she has a last name. Why is it that Hart just seemed so fitting?
"Here you are, Ms. Hart," I said, extending the bag to her.
She took it with a playful scowl to her pretty face, "Stalker."
I smiled because I can't seem to do anything besides that around her. "It was on your bag. I wasn't snooping."
"Uh-huh," she narrowed her eyes, "Sure."
We didn't speak as we came off the flight and into baggage claim, but I could feel her behind me every step of the way. I'm not sure what was so wrong with me that made her not want anything to do with me, but what could I really do about it? She clearly judged me before she knew me. Maybe she did hit the nail on the head with a few of her points, but that didn't mean there wasn't more to me.
But really, what was the point? I wasn't looking for a relationship and she clearly wasn't looking for a hookup.
I sighed as I grabbed my bag from the carousel and began walking towards the car rentals. The hotel offered to have a driver pick me up, but I couldn't do it. I'd rather walk to the hotel.
But as I was making my way through the crowd, I saw Kimberly again, walking with her bag in hand. I couldn't let this go. New York was big. I probably wouldn't run into her again, and she wanted me to know nothing about her, but I knew she would stay in my mind if I didn't go up to her one last time.
"Hey, freckles," I called out after her and she whipped her head around. She knew I was talking about her.
"Excuse me?" The fire in her eyes focused on me. "What did you call me?" She was even cuter when she was mad.
"You're not even going to ask for my number?" I asked her, holding a smile on my lips.
"Why should I?" Her brows furrowed.
I shrugged, "Don't you want to see me again?"
"No," she gave a desperate chuckle, "I really don't."
"Why don't you just take it in case you change your mind?"
She clicked her tongue, " I don't think I will, stalker."
"Not sure if I like that name," I buried my hand in my pocket.
"But it's so fitting," she smiled.
We get on so well. This isn't rejection. It's fucking foreplay.
"You really don't want to see me again? I'm only in town for a few more days."
The smile on her face faded and she dropped her head. The game was crumbling. "Look, Tommy. I've had fun with you, really, but I can't. I have too much going on and I'm not looking for a hookup. I'm here for work and then to be back with my kids. I'm not the kind of girl that you're looking for."
Can't say that I didn't try.
"No one's ever turned me down before," I say, continuing to stare at her. I know I won't get the opportunity to do this for much longer, so I have to savor every moment that I can.
"Well then… I guess you won't forget about me."
It was something about the way she said it, almost like she was disappointed with her own response. She was right. I wouldn't forget about her. I know I'll be thinking about the woman with the freckles on her nose for a long time.
"Alright," I nod, "but I know you'll regret it in the morning."
She smiles at me again, "We'll see about that. Thank you for the drink. I owe you one."
She moves around me towards the automatic doors, ready to face all of New York.
Please don't go.
"Two," I call out after her, smirking, "You owe me two."
She turns around and offers me that beautiful smile of hers and a wave of her hand.
With a regretful sigh, I grab my bag and make my way back to the car rentals. In a city of eight million people, I knew the chances of running into her again were low, but damn did I wish luck was on my side.
Author Note: Hey guys! Hope you enjoy the new chapter. Let me know what you guys think in a review or PM. Unfortunately, updates are going to begin to slow down. School is about to be in session and I have to give it my all. I hope you understand and stick by me. See you in my next update.